Here in this Canvas There in that Bed
by Besieged Infection
Summary: AU I watch and wait. It has been like this for ten years. He says things that I do not understand, and I will never know because he is all I have ever known.


_**Here in this Canvas; There in that Bed**_

_**A story by Torchlight**_

I watch him eat; I watch him sleep; I have no choice. Here in this canvas nothing is as it seems.

I appear to be nineteen, but in truth I have been nineteen for almost ten years. I do not know how I came to be, but I know I did. I know because _he_ told me. I have no way of truely knowing that I came to _be_, but _he_ told me. He told me and I have no choice but to believe him for he is all I have ever known.

I sit here on the wall; just watching his life fly by my canvas. Sometimes he is here- sometimes he is not. When he is here with people he is known as Myde, though to me he has always been, and always be, Demyx. I do not like it when other people are here. He is not meant to be called 'Myde', and I can not see him when others are here. When we are alone he lays on his bed and I can see him from my place at his headboard, but when they are here he sits at his desk and they sit on the floor to talk to him. Staring at him is my life and I love it. It love him. I do not know if this love is real, though. How can a canvas love, after all? What _is_ love? Who knows? Either way, I call it love as it confuses me like nothing else. It is the only thing keeping me sane, that question. After all- it is all I have ever known.

When they are here he calls me, they call me, 'Ienzo'. However, when we are alone he calls me 'Zexion'. I am _Zexion_. I _am_ Zexion. _I_ am Zexion. He's been calling me that since I first came to this room, and he tells me even before this room I had been 'Zexion'. He says it is an anagram of my name with an 'x', but I do not know what an anagram is as he is all I have ever known.

When we are alone he sometimes talks to me, saying things about a place called 'school' and a person called 'mother'. I do not know what 'school' is, nor do I know what a 'mother' is, but I love them both as he speaks quite highly of them. Sometimes I try to speak to him, respond to his words, and he goes quiet at those moments. But no sound emerges from my 'throat'. He then looks at me sadly. He says it seems like I'm trying to say something. He says this after I stop trying. He ia always sad after this and I want nothing more than to tell him that I love him. I stop trying and after a while he starts talking again as I hang onto every word. I hang onto every word because he is all I've ever known.

He plays something called a 'sitar', but he is not very good. He can not really sing, either. He does both on a rather regular basis, none-the-less, and people always come into the room to complain that he is being too loud. He smiles at them during these moments and stops playing. He is what people call 'kind'. Demyx wants a smile on the face of everyone in the room, no matter who they may be. Be they anything from an angry old woman to a terrorist. He is the kind of person who would sacrifice his own happiness for that of someone else. He really tries to make people happy- he really tries. He doesn't have to try hard with me, though. All he has to do is talk. If he just talks to me I would be happy, and I am. I am happy because I love him, and I love him because he is all I have ever known.

I do not understand 'kind' when they say it. I understand 'happy', 'love', and 'lonely' only because Demyx makes me feel all of them. They describe him, I think. They would explain how I know them because Demyx is all I have ever known.

He grows older as time passes, older every time I see him, and I fall further in love with him at the end of every day, at the end of every year. Sometimes he brings a friend home and I am ignored. That is when I experience 'sad', I think. After a 'friend' left, once, Demyx leaned forward to brush his hand against the canvas where my cheek would be. I savored the touch while it lasted, which was not long, though I could not feel it. He said, afterwards, that I had been 'crying'. I believed him because he is all I had ever known.

He is only here for a couple minutes a day, now, and comes looking pale and tired. I grow weary of not seeing him- only the ones that occasionally come into the room to clean. It is always the same woman. She sits by the bed for a couple minutes, throwing me what appears to be looks of pity, though why she would waste such an emotion on a painting is beyond me, and then go along her merry way once again, smiling once she left the room. I wonder what she is doing, thinking, at these moments, and why. However I am not really interested in this as it is routine- it is all I have ever known.

When Demyx is here he brings friends- their names are unusually familliar, and their faces ring some sort of bell in the back of my conciousness. _Marluxia, Vexen, Axel, Roxas_... and some others. The list goes on. Their names and faces leave a bitter taste in my conciousness and I find myself wishing to just shut out the world. Just block it all out, if even just for a day. Time passes and soon the world is black. I hear Demyx speak. He always talks to me about how I look like I am sleeping. He sounds happier for a few weeks, but the novelty wears off after a while and he lapses back into his talking. One day the world is no longer black and I find that Demyx has changed. His hair no longer hangs around his face- instead it is spiked up in some sort of odd style. It is an odd style, but it suits him, somehow. He has changed, though, and this scares me, but I love him anyways. I have no choice, really, as he is all I have ever known.

His life goes on, but mine does not. I find myself in a new room, and more people come in and out that before. Demyx is here now with stories of a place called 'college'. Across the room is a window, now, so I have something to do while he is gone. It rains here a lot, and I 'like' the rain. Or, at least, that is what _Demyx_ tells me. Demyx says I 'smile' when it rains. He says this with a goofy smile of his own. When it rains he always comes in soaking wet- his hair plastered to his forehead and the water clinging to his skin, giving it a sort of translucent attribute. He talks to me, still, and he is around much more than before. I still wish I could talk to him- to tell him of my love for him. But is it love? What _is_ love? I do now know. After all- Demyx is all I have ever known.

One day I look down- I have legs. I have a body. I always have. Here in this hospital nothing is as it seems.

Demyx is asleep at my bedside- he is so different today than when I first went into the coma. But nine and nineteen can not be _that_ different, can they? The things he told me now make some sort of sense, and the anagrams I now understand bring a smile to my face. He is Myde to everyone, he is Demyx to me; I am Ienzo to everyone, I am Zexion to him. He is their Myde, he is my Demyx, I am their Ienzo, I am his Zexion. That is all I have ever really known.

It was all I ever needed to know, actually.

~-~-~-~-~

End Notes: Happy Zemyx Day! I had a lot of fun writing this story- I must tell you. I spent several school days ignoring teachers and schoolmates alike, considering the fact that I officially do not have friends at my school, sans my Organization XIII friends Xion and Marluxia and the insanely hot Vexen, whom I call Vmexen. Before you ask I am Zexion. Yeah- all my friends at my school fit the profile of one of the characters from Organization XIII. It is currently my mission to find an Axel and Roxas!!!1! Oh yeah- anyways, I spent several days writing this in a notebook and skipping this community group thing (which is practically my life, now) I go to in order to type it up. I hope you liked it! Kudos to my beta Minikimii!

~Torchlight


End file.
